


Birth of the Time Mage

by nephilimswitchlight



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Bane Chronicles - Sarah Rees Brennan & Cassandra Clare & Maureen Johnson, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Warlock Alec Lightwood, starts in season one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27122788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nephilimswitchlight/pseuds/nephilimswitchlight
Summary: Alec Lightwood was born a hybrid. Half warlock, half shadowhunter. His life was a world of crazy because of it. He never thought it could get any more outlandish. Until one day he opened a portal that got corrupted. Instead of his destination, he stepped out into the living room of Magnus Bane. One hundred and twenty five years in the past.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 15
Kudos: 119





	Birth of the Time Mage

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I have almost this entire story handwritten, and it is long! Over three notebooks full long. I contemplated typing the whole thing up before posting it, but I love it too much and couldn't wait to share it. It is a little inspired by my story Bloodlines, like what would could happen if Alec grew up knowing he was part warlock. I hadn't originally intended for it to be time travel, but it sort of got away from me. I like the way it turned out much more than my original plan. I had originally planned on Peony being Cat/Ragnor or even Dot. An OC worked much better with the time travel story line though. This first one is the only chapter from her perspective and is sort of like an introduction. I plan on trying to get the second chapter up by Saturday(10/24/20) and will do my best to be able to. Hope you enjoy!

There is a universe where Alexander Gideon Lightwood was born exactly on his due date. A universe where a madman gets his way and the young Nephilim grows up without a single inkling to what blood really runs through his veins. This though, this isn’t that universe. 

Instead, the Lightwood heir wasn’t meant to be born until almost the end of October. With the due date so far away, Maryse Lightwood saw no harm in leaving Alicante on the twelfth of September. She didn’t think anything could go wrong with a small excursion out to an Italian village for some quality ingredients. Not until a sudden pain hit her abdomen and fluid was flowing down her leg. 

The only reason why sudden labor didn’t result in a tragedy was because a woman was walking by. A warlock woman who lived by an ethic code that didn’t let her walk away from a woman in need. Even if that woman was, essentially, an enemy. 

Peony Zayne is a nurse, a warlock who specializes in healing. Someone who would never pass by as someone let out an excruciating, terrified gasp. The moment Maryse Lightwood curled into herself with a cry, Peony was at her side with an arm hovering at her waist. 

“My baby.” she gasped. “He can’t come now. Not here.”

“Miss, I’m a nurse.” Peony informed her gently. “There is no way you can get back into Alicante safely. Please, let me help you.”

The Shadowhunter didn’t hesitate for a moment, her head nodding while her eyes grew wider by the second. “Yes, yes whatever it takes. Just keep my baby alive!”

“I’ll do all I can.”

Little over an hour later, Alexander Lightwood was born. He was however, not at all what Peony was expecting. Instead of the pure angelic Nephilim child of a long standing Shadowhunter family, he much more resembled a warlock newborn. A beautiful spattering of scales were spread across his pale skin. They were dark along his spine and neck, in patches down his chubby baby arms. They covered his face like a small mask, his forehead high cheekbones and nose. They ranged from deep forest green to a pale seafoam. 

When he opened his eyes, it was only decades worth of self control that stopped her from gasping. His eyes were a brilliant emerald. Not just the iris, the whole eye, and in the center were curved, draconic pupils. They were beautiful, and more importantly, she recognized them. 

The young Nephilim was a shock to Peony, she couldn’t imagine what he would be to his mother. So, regretfully, she waved a hand over his form so a glamour turned his skin into peachy smoothness. The moment he looked like a regular child, she was bundling him up and placing him in his mother’s arms. 

Worry filled her though. Despite the love she could see pouring from Maryse Lightwood, she was terrified of what the Circle member would do to her child if she knew how different he was. There was something about him that pulled at her heartstrings. She knew that she couldn’t let anything happen to the tiny little mystery. 

“Mrs. Lightwood was there anything unusual about your pregnancy?” she asked carefully as the beautiful babe settled in his mother’s arms. Now hazel eyes blinked up at the two women in almost intrigue and Peony couldn’t help the small coo she let out. 

“Why do you ask?” the shadowhunter inquired. Her eyes didn’t leave her son's face, but even without eye contact the worry radiating from her was palpable. 

Peony hesitated for only a moment before saying, “When I did a health scan on him, some things came up. Some, you could say, oddities that I am unsure about.”

Maryse frowned down at her newborn son, the worry now thick in the air. “Valentine has these, vitamins, I guess? My sister allowed him to inject her twins with them. They’re doing okay so I saw no issue either.”

Peony hesitated again. This woman had a reputation for hating Downworlders. She didn’t know how she would respond to her inkling that whatever Valentine had done to her child had turned him into a warlock. 

Instead of revealing her entire hypothesis, she said softly, “I believe whatever these vitamins were did much more than make him healthy. I would like to, well, to volunteer to be a sort of personal physician and trainer for young Alexander. Just in case my worries are correct.”

Maryse looked up for the first time and met Peony’s eyes. The look in her dark ones was skeptical, and almost afraid. “Why? Why would you be willing to look after a Nephilim child?”

_ Because he’s not a Nephilim only _ . She didn’t voice her thoughts. No matter how much she truly wanted to. “Because I believe Alexander will grow to do a great number of wondrous things. I want to ensure he reaches that potential. To help him understand whatever changes these vitamins have done to him.”

“Without payment?”

The disbelief bordering disgust in Maryse’s voice had her gritting her teeth and giving a closed mouth smile. “Being there for your son is all the payment I need.”

After a moment more of hesitation, Maryse agreed. Peony wasn’t ever sure the woman herself knew why, but she did. Something of which Peony would forever be grateful as it brought the greatest source of joy she had ever had into her life. 

For the next three years, Peony would meet Maryse and Alexander in secret every weekend. It only took one of those years for Alec to begin to show signs of magic. Magic that she reluctantly had to bind. It was appearing so incredibly early, and the poor child wasn’t safe with it at his finger tips. She swore though that it was only temporary. She would remove the binding as soon as he was old enough to learn to control it.

As time went on, Alexander grew to be a cheerful, kind boy. He always greeted her with a huge smile and a big hug. To the young toddler she was his weekend caretaker. Extended family. It was a sentiment she returned, as it didn’t take her long to grow to love him. To see him almost as her own. 

No matter how close she and young Alexander grew to be, tensions between her and Maryse tightened. She seemed more and more reluctant to leave him with her. Despite the disgust on her face every time, Peony could see how much she loved her son. It was that love that allowed Peony to be in his life. Even through her prejudice, she could see that every visit with the warlock helped her son grow. 

For those first three years, she kept a very tight eye on him every weekend. She had to be sure that he was healthy, that he was safe. She was terrified that whatever Morgenstern had done to him would begin to develop adverse health issues. None ever came up though. He continued to be chubby cheeked and wide eyed. Happy and innocent. She just wished she could see his true eyes and still keep him that pure and carefree. 

Keeping his glamour up was another thing she was very attentive to. She strengthened it every time he left her home. There was no chance of her letting a single Nephilim find out his secret. Keeping him safe was her number one priority. 

Then the Uprising happened. Valentine Morgenstern died. The Circle was disbanded and its members were punished. Maryse Lightwood included. Normally that would have filled her with absolute relief, but she was terrified about what would happen to Alexander. 

When Maryse told Peony that they were being relocated to New York, it was as if the Nephilim woman expected it was a goodbye. Peony would never let that happen and shook her head adamantly. 

“I’m moving too. Alexander may need me more than ever.” she stated firmly. With Morgenstern dead, there really was no way to verify what young Alexander had been injected with. No way to know for certain why the child was a warlock. Peony planned to keep an even closer eye on him now. 

Maryse didn’t question it, most likely as she was pregnant with her second child and that was far more of a concern for her. It only got more so when the girl was born. Isabelle Lightwood was a much more vocal and demanding child than her brother had been. The Lightwood parents' attention was centered almost entirely on the baby Nephilim. 

It left Alexander with her far more often than he used to be. It wasn’t something that bothered either of them. Especially not the young boy. He loved spending time with Peony, and he adored his sister. He didn't begrudge her time with their parents for even a second. 

“Izzy is the best ever!” he exclaimed while basically bouncing in a circle. “Imma be best big brother ever. Have to protect her from everything. That’s what a good brother does, Peony!”

“I know you will be for sure.” she assured him with a kiss to his brow, earning the most blindingly brilliant smile in return. 

Isabelle’s birth and Alexander’s determination to keep her safe, is what finally prompted her to begin giving her young charge real training. To finally tell him the truth. What she knew of it, at least what she knew his almost five year old mind could understand. 

“Alexander, we have to talk about something.” she told him softly one Friday, almost the moment that his mother had left. 

He turned serious hazel eyes on her. The expression on his face was one that should not have been so easy for a child to wear, and it made a pang of sadness fill her when he asked maturely, “What is it Peony?”

“You know how I’m a warlock?” she asked leadingly and he nodded immediately. 

“Of course.” he reached up to run gentle fingers through her feathers and hair. “I love your sparks and your feathers.”

“You’re sweet darling.” she returned the touch with a gentle stroke of his curls. “And you know that I’m the one who helped your mama give birth to you?”

He nodded. “You helped her because she was too far from Alicante.”

“Exactly. And you know that I’m your doctor and teacher because of that day?”

Alexander frowned. “Peony, you’re my friend.”

She smiled softly at his firm statement, a delighted feeling filling her. “You’re my friend too, my  _ passerotto _ . What I’m trying to say is well, is that I need to tell you why I made sure that we would become friends.”

“You did?” he asked in a delighted voice, that turned nervous after her nod when he added, “It’s not bad, is it?”

“No darling, it's not.” she assured him with a gentle look and a light kiss to the top of his head. “I promise.”

He stared at her with wide eyes and asked softly, “Why did you want to be my friend, Peony?”

“When you were born, it was with a mark. A warlock mark, like mine.”

“Feathers?!” he asked, body perking up. It took only a moment though for everything to register in his mind as he was suddenly frowning. “Wait, but Peony, I’m Nephilim. Do Nephilim get marks too?”

She gave a sad shake of her head. “No, Alec dear, they don’t.”

“But, but I’m Nephilim.” his eyes were growing impossibly wide and he began to fidget with the hem of his shirt. “Stele’s and seraph light for me. I don’t understand Peony.”

She settled her hands over his, helping to calm him by sending a gentle pulse of pink magic. “I don’t fully understand either  _ tesoro. _ All I know for sure is that you are Nephilim. You are also a warlock. What I don’t know is how.”

He sat silently for a moment, eyes focused on their hands. His small ones were still fidgeting beneath hers, and she wished she could do more to ease the anxiety coming from him. When he looked up to meet her eyes, it was with a confused, questioning gaze. “What happened to the mark?”

“I hid it.” she replied softly. “I hid it to protect you, and everyone you love.”

“Protect me from what?”

She bit her lip for a moment, unsure what would be good to tell him. Deciding on keeping it as vague as possible she said, “From absolutely anyone who would want to hurt you for being different.”

“May I see it? Is it feathers?”

“Of course you may.” she replied with an immediate nod and summoning of a mirror. “It’s much prettier than feathers.”

“Your feathers are the prettiest!” he exclaimed and she smiled and handed him the mirror. 

“So are your scales.” she remarked with a wave of her hand. Instantly, his hazel irises bled into brilliant emeralds and his mask of scales bloomed to life. They continued down his neck and arms and the moment they appeared he gasped. 

The weight of them must have been noticeable, as he wrinkled his nose the moment they were uncovered. Surprise and delight overcame his entire face as he stared at himself. One of his hands came up to prod his cheek bone. Another gasp left him when he saw that there were a patch of scales on the back of his hand. 

He was still tracing them when he looked over at her, absolutely beaming. “I look so cool!” he exclaimed delightedly. “Like a dragon!”

“Just like a dragon,  _ passerotto _ .”

He set the mirror into her hands and asked, “Do I have magic too?”

“You do, Alec.” her words had an immediate effect on him. Energy seemed to be radiating from him as he grinned widely. “Right now, I have it blocked to protect you. I want to unbind it and teach you to use it.”

“Yes!” he exclaimed, bouncing in place. “Yes, yes please Peony!”

She beamed back at him, a smile that unfortunately fell off of her face way too quickly. “Alec, this is very important. These lessons, they need to stay between us.”

Alec’s eyes widened for a moment, and then an unsure look came over his face. “Even from Mama and Izzy?”

“Yes,  _ mimmo _ .” she let out a sad sigh and grabbed both his hands between hers. “There are a lot of people who would want to hurt you for being both Nephilim and warlock.”

Alec seemed to understand her meaning immediately as he shook his head with fear in his eyes. “Those bad people would try and hurt Mama and Izzy to hurt me.”

“Exactly. Or, your mama and Izzy could be in danger for just knowing.”

“Clave people probably hate me.” Alec said definitively. “Mama would agree with Clave. She says law is law. I’m, I’m bad huh. I’m against the law aren’t I?”

“No.” She shook her head, anger at the fact that someone so young already had thoughts so, so dark in their mind exploding within her. Damn those Nephilim. “No. There is nothing wrong with you, Alexander Lightwood. You are a treasure. My treasure, and anyone who wants to hurt you for being you is the wrong one. Do you understand?”

He stared into her eyes for a moment and then gave a firm nod. “I want to learn magic, Peony. I promise I won’t tell anyone. Keep Izzy safe.”

She gave him a sad smile and kissed his forehead. “I’m so proud of you  _ tesoro _ . I’m so sorry you have to keep part of yourself secret, but I know you’ll do amazingly.”

He really truly did, too. He took to magic like a fish to water. The first thing she made sure he knew was how to glamour, and he didn’t hesitate to dive right in. His brilliant green gold magic responding to him as naturally as her own pink did her. 

Alec was a very bright boy, and as the years progressed she began to teach him much more than just magic. Languages were his favorite. He was already bilingual, having grown up with both Spanish and English. He still soaked up every lesson on French and Italian like a sponge

He also loved history. By the time he was ten, she was pretty sure he had read every book she owned that dealt with 1860 through 1900. He adored learning about the way the world progressed, though was disappointed there wasn’t much documented about the Shadow World. 

Mundane sciences and maths held little interest for him, but he adored potions. Potions and literally all magics. He was the best student she could have ever asked for, and she enjoyed every moment of teaching him. Even the hard ones. 

Three years later, on a regular Saturday night, was one such moment. She had just watched him successfully bring his book from across the room to his hands. After grinning widely at her he made to open the tome, but he hesitated. 

A contemplative look came over his eyes. The pensive thoughts visibly transformed to worry and she herself frowned. “Peony?”

“Yes, Alec?”

“How did I become a warlock? I haven’t wanted to ask because, well,” his green eyes were almost afraid, the flared pupils wide. “I’ve been too afraid to ask if my dad is my dad.”

“Oh,  _ tesoro _ , yes.” she pulled him into her arms and squeezed him gently. “Robert Lightwood is your father.”

“So there was no demon?” fear was practically vibrating from him and she ran her hand comfortingly along his spine. 

“No, Alec, no demon.” she ran the fingers of her other hand in his soft hair. “Your parents had this friend, Valentine Morgenstern. He injected you with something while you were still in your mother’s womb.”

“And that made me a warlock?”

“Yes, darling.”

He sighed in her embrace, his head landing heavily on her shoulder. “Thank the Angel. My dad, he’s already so short with me. I know he loves Izzy more. I’m more than okay with that but I still, I want him to love me a little bit.” He sniffled before adding near silently, “I don’t want him to hate me.”

“Neither of your parents will ever hate you, Alexander.” she told him firmly. “They love you.”

“What if they find out I’m also a warlock and do hate me?” his voice was still almost silent and so very small. She was instantly heartbroken for the legitimacy of his fear and placed a motherly kiss to his curls. 

“We’ll face that day if it comes. Just know that I will always love you.”

That day wasn’t the last time he feared his family hating him, a fact that would continue to infuriate her and cause her to curse the Nephilim tenfold. The next time especially. 

It was the night before Alec’s tenth birthday, and a sudden knock on the door had her worried. A worry that increased excessively when she opened the door to the slender boy fidgeting nervously, a despondent air about him. When he looked up at her, his glamour fading, the only emotions she could see in his expressive eyes was sadness and fear. 

She was immediately pulling him into her arms and backing them into her home. “What is wrong, Alec?”

“I’m scared.” he whispered into her shoulder. 

“Of what,  _ passerotto _ ?”

“My rune ceremony,” he replied and she instantly understood his worry. “What if I don’t take runes?” tears sprang to his eyes and began to soak into her sweater. “They’ll shun me. My parents will hate me. I’ll lose Izzy. I don’t want to lose everything, Peony.”

She tightened her grip on him and began to murmur soft assurances into his ear as he sobbed onto her shoulder. When his shaking form stilled, she gently pulled him back enough to place her hands on either side of his face. The tender touch was accompanied by a small brush of magic to wipe away his tears. 

When his wet eyes met hers fearfully, she asked softly, “How long have you been afraid of this, Alec?”

He gave a dejected shrug. “While.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Was afraid.” she could tell he would be staring at the ground if his face wasn’t between her hands and she frowned sadly. 

“Of what?”

He shrugged again, but didn’t say anything. Her frown increased and she dropped her hands to his shoulders, squeezing them lightly. “You can tell me anything, Alec.”  
“I was afraid you’d think I hated being a warlock.” he admitted shyly. “That you’d think I thought there was something wrong with it. Which I don’t! I promise.”

“Oh darling.” she kissed his forehead lightly. “I know you don’t. I also know how important being a Nephilim is to you. How important your family is to you. I would never begrudge you any of that.”

“If I can’t take runes and they kick me out for being defective, can I come here?”

The hope in his eyes made her chest tighten and she pulled him into another tight embrace. “Oh, Alexander. You can always come to me, I promise. As far as I’m concerned, we’re family too.”

Her assurance seemed to give him a bit of comfort. He shouldered his fear with far more strength then a ten year old tended to have. Should ever have. Alexander wasn’t just a child though. He was about to become a soldier, and his resolve shone in his eyes. 

Any remaining fear he had was gone the next day when he took his Angelic Power rune perfectly. From there, his Nephilim training truly began. More often than not, their weekends together transformed to gentle book learning. Every time he showed up at her doorstep on Fridays, he seemed far too drained to handle any strenuous magic. 

She had never truly interacted with Nephilim before Alexander. They had always seemed like such a harsh society, a community of violence. The people themselves weren’t necessarily all bad, especially not Alec. But the pressures she saw the Clave’s precious Law enforce on him was far more than anyone should ever have. Especially a child. 

They began to build up on him and his easy happy go lucky personality began to disappear. His comfort in his own skin even began to fade and a new fear was growing in his eyes. A fear she hadn’t fully expected, but part of her knew made sense. 

It came out two years after he gained his runes. He was reading a potions book, one hand tracing his new deflect rune whose ends brushed his scales. She was on the couch opposite his favourite overly cushioned armchair with a book of her own when he said her name softly. 

“Yes, Alec?” she asked, lifting her head to look at him. His gaze though was still firmly on his book, except his dragon eyes weren’t moving. “What’s wrong?”

“Is it okay for boys to be attracted to other boys?” he asked softly, his hands fidgeting the corner of his book’s cover. 

She closed her own book and turned to face him fully. He still refused to look at her, and his body was far more tense than she had ever seen it. It was such a desolate look, that she immediately cursed Nephilim culture. 

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with it Alexander. Some boys like girls. Some girls like boys. Others like their own gender, both or even neither. No matter who you’re attracted to, you’re still you and there is nothing to be ashamed of.”

He fidgeted with his fingers for a moment, nerves radiating off of him. “I’m pretty certain I only like boys.” He finally admitted softly. “I’m scared. And I’m sad. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell anyone but you.” He sniffled and added dejectedly, “I won't ever get to fall in love.”

She immediately stood and moved to kneel before him. She gently closed his book, set it aside, and grabbed his hands. At the touch, saddened, worry filled eyes met hers and she gave his hands a squeeze. 

“You listen to me, Alexander Lightwood. Do not, for even a moment, let anyone dictate your life. Don’t you let anyone control your happiness. Not me. Not your family. Certainly not the Clave. 

“Do not let yourself settle for less than what your heart wants. You are an amazing boy and I know you will grow into a fine young man. There is nothing I would hate more than to see you lock your heart in a cage because you’re afraid of what others will think. You find the man of your dreams, and you love him with every bit of yourself. There is nothing wrong with love and don’t you let a single person tell you otherwise.”

He launched himself into her arms and she caught him easily. A litany of ‘thank you’s’ was murmured into her shoulder and she squeezed him tightly. 

“You never have to thank me for loving you as you are.” she assured him and he just hugged her even tighter. 

That was the last time she saw him truly emotional, saw him truly lower all his walls for many years. As Alec grew, she watched him transform from a carefree child to a tense soldier. Despite her encouragement to be himself, the Nephilim Soldier persona followed him everywhere. His posture stiffened. His eyes hardened. He would come to her on Fridays a quiet, stoic man and it would be right before he left that she once again saw her lighthearted brilliant boy. 

A large part of her was afraid that his tension and restraint was due to him shoving himself into a box. She was afraid that the pressure of holding both his warlock identity and his sexuality from his entire community was going to be far too much for his admittedly young shoulders. 

She had tried to encourage him to open up about at least part of it to anyone. His sister. His  _ parabatai _ . He always brushed aside her worry and the fear she felt increased. It wasn’t until he had left his teens entirely, until he was actually a man, that she felt she could truly bring that fear up. She just hoped he would listen. 

“Alexander, I am worried about you.” she told him softly one night. It was a warm August evening and he was running through his magical exercises. The green magic in his hands died away as he turned to face her, a scaled brow raised in confusion. 

“Why?”

“You’re so tense,  _ passerotto. _ ” she declared gently. “You seem to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. For anyone, but especially a man of almost twenty-two, that’s a very dangerous thing to do.”

As soon as she finished speaking, his shoulders sagged and he gave a dejected sigh. “I have to Peony. I’m the oldest. I have to be a good example, a level headed example, for Izzy and Jace. I’m the Acting Head of the New York Institute. I have to be the responsible one.”

“You’re also practicing magic, potions and studying so much history you may as well be a professor.” she reminded him firmly. “All while keeping a huge part of yourself secret from everyone in your life. Something has to give, or you’ll shatter.”

“I cant.” his voice was small and he turned imploring eyes on her. “You don’t understand, Peony. Jace and Izzy, they…-”

“Get to go out, break rules, party all while you stay behind and take all responsibility?” she crossed her arms and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “How is that fair to you?”

“I’m the oldest.” he said again, this time firmly. “And I’m a soldier, a leader. It’s my responsibility to keep them safe and in line.”

“Alexander…-”

A shrill beeping of his phone interrupted her. He gave her an apologetic look as he pulled it out. As soon as he read his screen he sighed and the look deepened. “Jace found the demon that's peddling mundane blood. I have to get back to the Institute.”

“ _ Tesoro _ ,” she implored but he just gave a soft smile before placing a kiss on her cheek. 

“I’ll be back soon, and then maybe we can talk about finding me a hobby.”

She nodded and watched him leave. She knew that next time she saw her Alexander, things would be very different. She just hoped it was for the better. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so very much for reading! I would absolutely love to hear from you.


End file.
